Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven, @ 2008-06-07 23:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | narnia fic, narnia fic caspian/edmund |
Narnia fic: How to Love Each Other [Caspian/Edmund, adult]
Title: How to Love Each Other
Author: celandineb
Fandom: Narnia
Pairing: Caspian/Edmund
Rating: adult
Warnings: first time
Summary: Sometimes having a plan thwarted to begin with can improve it in the end.
Note: ~1100 words, set during VotDT. For emiime, who's been having a not-wonderful week. The title is from the hymn "Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee."
Caspian and Edmund had reached an agreement that, should they make landfall on an island on which they could victual and water and repair the poor battered Dawn Treader, the first night they would cement their understanding. They had shared many stolen kisses and sweet caresses on board, yet they both longed for more, though were chary of any such attempt on the crowded ship.
Thus when Eustace disappeared, and they had to search for him, Caspian's irritation was great. He had tried to feel as well as show courtesy to Eustace for Edmund's and Lucy's sake, but he could not like or condone such behavior as the boy had consistently exhibited.
They could not send out search parties at night, not on an unknown island, but they did put out more sentries than would otherwise have been the case, on the chance that one of them might see or hear some trace of the missing boy. As a result, Caspian found a moment to tell Edmund with regret that their plan would have to be postponed. It would take some days to repair the ship and replenish her stores, and there would be other opportunities for them.
Being a king himself, Edmund took the delay in good part, and they both were glad of it when the dragon appeared that same night. It would never have done for the king of Narnia to be discovered with his breeches down by one of the ship's crew while on his way to inform Caspian of the ill news.
"I'm almost glad that the dragon proved to be your cousin," Caspian murmured to Edmund the following afternoon.
"Why so?" Edmund's voice was just as quiet. The two of them were waiting in a thicket, with others similarly concealed nearby; the hunting party had spotted signs of game, deer or goats or some similar animal, and the rest of the men were circling to drive it toward them.
"He is inquisitive. None other would follow either of us, should they see us slip from our blankets late at night, but he might." Caspian set an arrow to his string. "I hear them coming."
The hunt was successful. They feasted at that night on fresh meat, and all ate their fill, with watered wine as well to soothe throats long parched.
Across the spitted haunch Caspian's eyes met Edmund's, and a brief nod was all that was needed for understanding.
After all the rest were sound asleep, save the sentries -- only two tonight -- Edmund slipped from his place. Caspian marked where he went, a little to the north of the necessary trench, and scant minutes later he followed.
Just as he began to wonder if he had somehow missed Edmund altogether in the darkness under the trees, a hand grasped him firmly by the forearm, and Edmund's voice said, "Here, Caspian."
Caspian embraced him, feeling the pounding of Edmund's heart as fast and urgent as his own. "Edmund," he breathed. Edmund's kisses never disappointed, but tonight they had a greater intensity than usual, for both of them knew what was to come. Edmund slipped a hand under Caspian's tunic and stroked his back.
"Are you ready?"
"I am." Caspian swallowed.
They sank to earth softly carpeted in fir needles. Edmund touched Caspian's cheek.
"It would be imprudent to undress entirely, I fear," he said.
Caspian could not but agree, much though he would have liked to do so, to feel Edmund bare against him for the full length of their bodies. "We must make do, then," he said as cheerfully as he could.
Edmund had brought a little flask of oil taken from the galley, and he used it to prepare Caspian, who gulped with mingled apprehension and delight as he was laid open by Edmund's touch.
When at last he knelt on hands and knees, Edmund behind him, inside him, filling and completing him, Caspian bit his lips to stifle the sounds of awed pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Caspian?" Edmund's voice was urgent. "Caspian, you must tell me if I hurt you."
"You could never hurt me." Caspian was as certain of that as he had ever been of anything in life. "Go on."
When Edmund began to move, Caspian nearly cried out. Not with pain, not at all, but with the sheer unexpectedness of the sensation. He held his tongue only by remembering that they were not so far from the camp, after all, and to alarm them would be unwise. Instead he turned his head to muffle his voice against his own shoulder, repeating Edmund's name in a whisper as he glanced backward to see Edmund's face contorted in solemn ecstasy.
"Caspian," whispered Edmund in return. "Caspian, my lord and king." He bent forward so that his lips touched Caspian's shoulder blade. His hand slipped along Caspian's belly, taking hold of him and beginning a stroke that fit so naturally with the thrusts of Edmund's hips that Caspian felt as if he were lover and beloved at once, spiraling up to a hitherto-unknown peak of intensity.
He hissed and stiffened as his climax overtook him, felt Edmund still moving convulsively for a moment more, and then had scarcely time to feel empty or forsaken as Edmund slid from his body before Edmund had lain beside him and held him in an embrace.
"My lord and king," Caspian murmured, echoing Edmund's words, and Edmund laughed softly and kissed him.
"Kings and lords, knights and equals we are and shall be, then, shall we not?"
"Always," Caspian promised, and then for a little while they were silent.
Edmund had a pocket-handkerchief and cleaned them both as best he was able, fumbling awkwardly in the near-dark. They refastened their loosened clothing although they hoped nevertheless to remain unseen.
"It is not that I would not acknowledge you as first in my heart and affections," Caspian began, but Edmund stopped him with gentle fingers against Caspian's lips.
"No need. A king is bound by his duties, as I well understand. There is no need for apology between us."
Slipping back through the trees to camp, crawling again into his blankets, Caspian had no regrets for what they had done. He would do his duty as king -- he had no illusion that Edmund would be allowed to stay long in Narnia -- but to have had this, to have the chance to repeat it for as long as they might be together, ah, that was joy unlooked-for, yet treasured indeed.